Strawberry- 1899
by Vol lady
Summary: Follows "Fine Dreams." Heath takes his sons, Little Heath and Nicky to Strawberry, now a ghost town. This visit creates more than memories when his oldest, Little Heath, is forced to grow up in a hurry.
1. Chapter 1

Strawberry - 1899

Early Summer, 1899

Suzanne packed saddlebags for each of the boys, making sure they had clean socks and underwear and a clean shirt each. In the morning, she would put together food for them and for Heath, enough so that they could camp out once on the way, once in Strawberry and once on the way back. It was to be their first trip to Strawberry. It was to be special.

Heath came to bed after cleaning up, seeing his wife closing up the saddlebags. "They're so excited they probably won't sleep," he said.

Suzanne smiled. "How about their father?"

"Well," Heath said, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist, "kinda more cautious, I guess."

"Cautious?"

"Not sure how I'll explain everything."

"Well, they both know you were born and raised in Strawberry already."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure seeing it now is going to sit too well with them. Papa's from a ghost town? I'm not sure they'll really believe it wasn't like that when I was growing up, and I wonder if they'll really understand I'm from someplace different than their Uncle Nick."

"Oh, give them some credit," Suzanne said, turning in his arms and kissing him on the mouth. "They might understand things better when they see where you actually grew up. I know I did."

"You were an old married lady."

"Old?" Suzanne protested.

Heath laughed. "Only to them."

"You are looking forward to going, aren't you?"

Heath smiled. "Yeah, to seeing them see it. I'm not sure how I'll feel when I see the old place gone mostly to dust."

Suzanne kissed him again. "Having the boys with you will help you adjust to that, I'll bet. This will be a good trip for all of you – even the camping part."

"I don't know about that. Beans, and all."

Suzanne laughed and put the saddlebags on the chair.

Before she could turn around again, Heath had her by the waist and pulled her back to the bed. She laughed, trying not to be too loud about it. The boys didn't need to hear everything.

XXXXXXX

The next day, Heath got himself together fairly slowly, even though Little Heath and Nicky were chomping at the bit to get going. "We're camping out tonight," Heath explained. "We don't have that far to go. We're going to camp out at a place not too far from Strawberry where I liked to go hunting, and we're gonna do our best to get some rabbit or quail for our supper."

Suzanne said quietly, "I've packed you some ham and potatoes."

"The boys love the beans. You can guess why."

Suzanne chuckled. "That's your problem, darling. I'll pack some."

They took off just after having a sandwich or two for an early lunch, and the rode almost all the way to Strawberry. The boys had never been this way before, so Heath took care to point out a lot of things to them – the stream where he liked to catch trout when he was a kid, the place where he liked to look for Indian arrowheads and even found one or two. He wasn't sure his sons were all that interested in his escapades as a boy, at least not yet, so he picked out a good camping spot about five miles from Strawberry and let Nicky build a fire while he let Little Heath go off on his own to shoot what small game he might find.

Heath made sure Nicky was building a fire correctly, watching over his shoulder while he unsaddled the horses and brushed them down. Heath led them all to a spring nearby and let them drink, then tethered them on the other side of their camp where there was some decent grass for them to graze on. By the time he finished all that, Nicky had a good fire going.

Heath and Nicky heard two shots from not very far away. "I hope Heath has shot us some dinner," Nicky said. "I like beans, but some rabbit would really taste good."

It wasn't very long before Little Heath appeared with said rabbit. Heath watched with pride as his son skinned his catch, and then Nicky helped get the rabbit cooking over the fire. Nicky had already made coffee, and the three Barkley men settled by the fire drinking the strong brew as the sun began to set.

"Papa," Nicky said at one point, "you keep calling Strawberry a ghost town. So why exactly are we going there?"

"There are things I want you to see," Heath said. "My mama – your grandmother – is buried there. I want you to see her grave. And my Aunt Rachel is buried there too, and Hannah, the woman who helped my mama and Aunt Rachel raise me. I want to tell you more about them when we get there. And I want to show you the house we managed to buy when I was little."

"Is that where you were born, Papa?" Little Heath asked.

"No," Heath said quietly. "When I was born, there weren't a lot of houses in Strawberry. Mostly people lived in tents, and I was born in a tent. It's long gone now."

"Why did people come to live in Strawberry if it didn't have any houses?" Nicky asked.

Heath smiled. "Gold. Somebody found gold there, and men came from everywhere. Women came to find husbands, and it happened so fast there wasn't time to build houses at first. But then the town built up pretty nice."

"But now it's a ghost town," Little Heath said. "Why?"

"The mine played out," Heath said. "The people who came there dug up all the gold, and when there wasn't any left, there wasn't any reason for anybody to stay."

"You didn't stay either."

"No, I left even before it completely played out. I went to the war, and when I came back, people were already starting to leave."

"But your mama and Aunt Rachel and Hannah stayed."

"Yeah, they stayed. They didn't have anyplace else to go. They all stayed until they died." Heath felt a pang of guilt that he always felt when he thought about those women, and how he left them after they nursed him back to health after the war. Sure, his mother said over and over that he needed to leave Strawberry and find a better life, but he still felt guilty. He had wanted to find that better life and bring her to it, but he didn't find it until after she was gone.

Heath kept all that to himself. His boys didn't need to know any of that.

Nicky broke the silence again. "Do they call it a ghost town because it has ghosts?"

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Little Heath said quickly.

"No, it doesn't have ghosts," Heath said. "Heath is right – there's no such things as ghosts. I guess they call it a ghost town just because no people live there anymore. It can get a little scary, especially at night. But we'll all stick together. There won't be any ghosts around to bother us."

"I saw a ghost once," Nicky said.

"You did not," Little Heath said.

"I did!" Nicky said.

Heath smiled. "Where did you see a ghost?"

"At home, near the barn," Nicky said. "It was a big man and his eyes were lit up."

Little Heath said, "You saw an owl in a tree."

Heath said, "Well, I don't think you saw a ghost. I think maybe you just saw a shadow a certain way and thought it was a ghost."

"Well, I thought it was a ghost, but it wasn't scary," Nicky said. "He just blinked and then he was gone."

Heath said, "There aren't any ghosts, Nicky, so don't you go worrying about them. Besides, we won't spend the night in Strawberry if either of you don't want to. It's pretty dark at night anyway. No lights."

"I'm not afraid to spend the night in a ghost town," Little Heath said, "because there's no such thing as ghosts."

"Me neither, but there are such things as ghosts," Nicky said.

"No, there aren't," Heath said.

The rabbit and the beans were ready by then, so they all began to eat and forgot about ghosts.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Little Heath was already up and moving around before his father and brother were. He said quietly to his father, "I'm gonna find some firewood."

Heath said, "Don't go far."

"I won't," Little Heath said.

Heath got himself up, took care of his morning ablutions (except for shaving, which he was not going to do) and was unpacking some oatmeal when Little Heath returned with some wood and started the fire. Nicky was still waking up – it usually took him a long time to come around and this morning was no different.

"Time to get moving," Little Heath told him.

"Go use the bush and don't get lost," Heath said to the boy.

Nicky stumbled off without a word.

The fire was going when Heath brought the oatmeal and a pot of water over to it. "You want me to get the horses ready?" Little Heath asked.

"I'll do it if you get the oatmeal and the coffee started," Heath said.

Little Heath nodded. By the time Heath had the horses saddled and ready, Nicky was back and the food and coffee were cooking. Heath noticed that Little Heath's face had a bit more fuzz on it than usual. Little Heath was not planning to shave either. Heath smiled.

"How long before we get to Strawberry?" Nicky asked.

"Less than an hour," Heath said. "Any questions you got before we get there?"

"Not really," Nicky said.

Little Heath poured some coffee into a cup and handed it to his father. "How's this?"

Heath tasted. "It's fine."

Little Heath poured some for Nicky and for himself, saying, "Oatmeal won't be very long now. And I have a couple questions."

"Shoot," Heath said.

"Your mother – your real mother, our grandmother – what was she like?"

Heath smiled. "She was very pretty, very kind, very gentle. She not only would never hurt a fly – she would nurse one back to health if somebody else hurt it. She was a lot like your mama."

"And what about her mother and father? You never mention them."

"That's because I didn't know them," Heath said. "Never saw them, and my mother never talked about them."

"You never asked?"

"I did once, but all my mama said was that they died. Aunt Rachel said the same thing, so maybe they didn't know them either. You should know, I had another aunt and uncle – well, I don't think they were my real aunt and uncle, my mama just had me call them that. I don't know what relation they were, if they were any relation. Their names were Martha and Mathew Simmons, and they weren't nice people. They ran the hotel in Strawberry, and sometime in the late 1870s they both died. That's all I know about them."

"What do you mean, they weren't nice?" Nicky asked.

"They weren't honest," Heath said. "Once they tried to hornswaggle some money out of your grandmother, Mrs. Barkley."

"I'll be she wasn't hornswaggled," Nicky said with a grin.

"No, she wasn't," Heath said, remembering the time his step-mother went to Strawberry to find out what kind of relationship Tom Barkley had with Leah Thomson, smiling at the memory. It was then he learned his father had never known he existed, and that was the beginning of Heath losing all bitterness toward Tom Barkley. Now, Heath was sorry he never knew the man, but glad that bitterness was long gone.

Now that he was getting older, Little Heath was beginning to put together the stories about his father's father, Tom Barkley, and he was beginning to understand what happened between Leah Thomson and him. He didn't say anything now but he put what he was hearing away, to talk to his father someday privately about it, so he could understand for himself what happened.

Heath could almost read Little Heath's mind. He smiled a bit his older son's way. "One thing I want you boys to know before we visit my real mama's grave. Your grandmother, Mrs. Barkley, is as much mama to me as my own mother was, and she is your grandmother in every way. When I tell you about my real mother, Miss Thomson, I want you to remember how lucky I feel to have had two wonderful mothers, and how lucky you are to have Mrs. Barkley as a grandmother."

Little Heath nodded.

Nicky asked, "Is the oatmeal ready yet?"

Both Heath and Little Heath chuckled. Little Heath checked the pot. "It's ready," he said and began to dish it out.

XXXXXXXXXX

The three Barkley men rode toward Strawberry and first came across an old abandoned mineshaft. Heath remembered shooting a man there who tried to shoot him and Victoria when they were there together many years ago, the last time Heath saw Martha and Mathew Simmons. He vaguely wondered if the man's skeleton was still down the mineshaft, but he let that go.

"What's that?" Nicky asked when they saw the tumbled down structure over the mineshaft.

"The played out mine," Heath said. "They just left it as it was, and over the years it fell apart."

"Did you ever work in the mine, Papa?" Little Heath asked.

"For a little while, after I got well from the sickness I got during the war, but not for very long. It's hard and hot work. I didn't like it much."

They rode on together, and soon they came to the ramshackle nothing of a graveyard where there were several graves, most of them with stones that were falling over, but the three that were important to Heath were still intact. Heath dismounted outside the graveyard and tethered his horse. His sons did the same, and the three of them walked in toward Leah Thomson's grave. The boys took their hats off when their father removed his. They watched as he knelt at the grave and brushed some fallen leaves off the bottom of the stone.

"This is my mother, one of your grandmothers," Heath said. "She died of a fever when I was just 24, but I remember her like she was alive yesterday. She was sweet and gentle and she had a laugh like music."

Nicky was looking around and saw another stone that was upright. "Is this your Aunt Rachel?" he asked.

Heath looked over. "Yes, it is. She was murdered, not even a year after my mother died. She was a lot like my mother, just as sweet and gentle. I remember once, when I was maybe your age, Nicky, Mama and Aunt Rachel and Hannah took me to church and had me baptized. I was scared to death. I thought they were gonna drown me. But after, they fixed a big special dinner for me, and my mama told me how proud she was that I behaved myself while I was being baptized. I was all grown up before I realized how important being baptized was to those women. It meant everything to them. It meant I was saved and when I died I'd be with them in heaven again."

Heath grew quiet, remembering, wondering how he could explain to his sons that these women were vital to him becoming the man he did.

"Where's Hannah?" Nicky asked.

Heath pointed to a corner of the graveyard where there was only one stone left standing, but many fallen down. "Hannah was a negro woman. Negroes were only allowed in the little corner of the cemetery."

"Why?" Nicky asked.

Heath sighed. "That's just the way it's always been. I really don't know why, but it is."

Heath sat down on the ground then in front of his mother's grave, and taking the cue, his sons sat down with him. Heath began talking again about times he shared with these women when he was a boy – how once he fell in the creek and Hannah jumped in to pull him out, how he came home from the war all sick and they just fussed over him night and day, how his first memory of anything at all was about the awful tasting medicine they gave him when he had a cough. Heath went on and on with stories until he realized his boys were getting a little restless.

"Let's go take a look at the town," Heath said and climbed to his feet.

"Will we see any ghosts?" Nicky asked.

"There are no ghosts!" Little Heath insisted as they mounted up.

"If you see any, you point them out," Heath said. "'Cause I don't believe in them either."

Heath led the way over the hill and down into the ghost town of tumbled down buildings that had once been Strawberry.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first thing Heath noticed as they rode into Strawberry was how many more buildings had simply fallen apart since the last time he was here with Suzanne, many years ago. The little house where he had once lived with his mother was nothing but rubble now, when it had been at least partially standing the last time he was here. The old saloon's walls were still standing, but the roof was caved in, and across the street, the jail still had some bars upright but that was it. A few other places had a wall or two still up or a door still there. He wasn't sure about the hotel - it might have been standing somewhere up ahead, but all the rubble blocked his view.

Heath pulled to a stop where the only street entered the town, and his sons pulled up beside him. "It's not much, is it?" Little Heath asked.

"Not anymore," Heath said. He pointed out the rubble that used to be his home. "That's where we lived after the war. It wasn't much, but it was a roof over our heads." He wondered for a moment if Hannah's old place was still up. It was at the other end of town.

"Where was the tent where you were born?" Little Heath asked.

Heath turned around a bit and pointed behind them. "Back that way. The town was mostly tents then. They're long, long gone."

"Can we get down and go see your house?" Nicky asked.

Heath decided it wouldn't hurt, and his sons climbed down as he did. Little Heath took the horses' leads and tethered them to the corner of a nearby building that was still standing, if minus a roof. Then he joined his father and brother.

Heath stooped and began to pick at the remains of his old home. It really was all rubble now, piles of wood and broken window glass. He found a squashed chair under the collapsed corner near what was the front door. Even the chair did not look familiar anymore.

"It wasn't very big, was it?" Nicky asked.

"No," Heath said. "It wasn't."

"You were really poor, weren't you?" Little Heath asked.

"Yes, we were," Heath said.

"Why didn't Grandfather Barkley help you out?"

"He didn't know I existed," Heath said. "He was just someone my mother became very close to for a little while, but then he went back to his life without ever knowing I was born."

"Your mother didn't tell him?"

"No. I don't know why not. Maybe she was afraid he'd take me away from her. But none of that is very important anymore. What's important is that there was a lot of love in this house, even if there wasn't a lot of much of anything else." Heath stood up. "That's what's important. That's what I want you boys to remember. The big house and the horses and all the land matter, but not as much as the love matters. Miss Thomson was full of love. Aunt Rachel and Hannah, too. And so are the Barkleys. They welcomed me when I came along and they gave me a lot of love, too. That's what matters."

Heath untethered all the horses and led the way down the street, looking for some building that was stable enough for him to take his sons into. He found was the hotel – which made him very uneasy, because of all the bad memories about the people who ran it, Aunt Martha and Uncle Matt, but it was the only one that looked stable enough to call "standing." Heath gave a sigh, tethering the horses to a rail that was still standing. Then he motioned his sons back up toward the hotel, and they went in.

The desk was still standing and so was the stairway, although some of the steps themselves had caved in. The roof was mostly crashed in, but there was some cover. A broken down sofa remained, and there were oil lamps on the desk and on the floor under the window, which was broken. Heath walked around behind the desk, looking for maybe a registry or something else that might prove interesting, but all he found were an old bottle of oil and an old box of matches.

"Hmm," he said. "Well, I'm afraid there isn't a lot here anymore – just some oil and a box of matches back here that'll maybe light a lamp or two. This was the hotel the Simmonses ran. There might be something down in the basement, but I don't want to trust any steps around this town, so don't you boys go down there."

Little Heath looked up to the second floor of the hotel. "Did your aunt and uncle live here, too?"

"Yeah," Heath said, following his son's gaze. He pointed. "That room in the back up there was where they lived. Used to be a little restaurant through that door behind the desk, but it closed before I left here. Pretty much everything closed before I left here."

"You said your aunt and uncle weren't honest people. How could they run a business like this if they weren't honest?"

Heath chuckled a bit. "They nudged the bills a little bit, claimed it was for taxes and such, and they got away with it. As the town began to close down, they nudged the out of towners even more. Then they got really dangerous. I thought they might have killed my Aunt Rachel."

"Wow," Nicky gasped quietly. "They're not here anymore, are they?"

"No, no, Nicky, like I said, they're dead now and there's nobody here."

Little Heath pointed to the old fireplace in the far corner. "It's getting on toward lunchtime, and we have some sandwiches. Do you think we can make some coffee in that fireplace?"

Heath shook his head. "The chimney's caved in. We'll just drink water with our food, save the coffee for later when we camp out for the night."

XXXXXXXX

They ate sitting on the hotel floor, talking some more about the town and what it was like when Heath grew up. After they were finished eating lunch, they walked around town some more. Heath pointed out buildings and told stories about things that he remembered were connected to them – the jail once held Terrence Cole, one of the biggest outlaws in California; the saloon was once so lively that they were allowed to serve liquor out in the street sometimes; a ladies' shop actually opened up at one time and his Aunt Rachel worked there for a while.

They wound their way up to the place where Hannah's house was just outside of town. "Negroes were not allowed to live in the town itself," Heath explained, "and again, I don't know why Negroes are treated that way, but they still are." He was saddened but not surprised to see that the house had completely fallen down over the years. He thought about how Hannah had cared for it when she lived here. "I used to come over here all the time when I was a boy," he explained. "Hannah would feed me cookies and milk, and she let me have my first cup of coffee. We never did tell my mama."

They wandered and talked the day away. Heath even felt his voice giving out as they found their way back to the hotel. The sun wasn't setting just yet, but Heath checked his watch and knew that it would be going down in an hour or so. He told his boys it was time to use the necessary out in back of the hotel before they rode out and camped out for the night again.

Little Heath used it first, and then it was Nicky's turn. "Come straight back here," Heath said. "Don't go roaming around." He knew his younger son had a tendency to go exploring if you didn't tell him not to.

"Okay," Nicky said and went out the back way, as he had seen his father and brother do.

"Papa," Little Heath asked after Nicky had left, "do you think Nicky is really understanding everything we've talked about?"

"No," Heath said. "I know you understand what happened, why I didn't have the same mother as your Uncle Nick and Aunt Audra, but Nicky doesn't, not yet."

"I can try to talk to him when we get home, if you want."

Heath smiled, but shook his head. "That's a father's job, Heath. And we need to give Nicky a couple years yet before we try to explain things to him. For now, it's enough he understands my mother was a different person, and that this is the town I grew up in."

"I'm glad you brought us here," Little Heath said. "It's been interesting, to see that you grew up different than we're growing up. But I'm awful glad you found your way to the Barkleys."

"Not near as glad as I am. They've been wonderful to me, almost since the day I got here."

"Almost?"

"Well, that's a story for another day. But you know your Uncle Nick. We butted heads at first, but not for long. I was a really angry buck when I came, but I didn't stay angry for very long, and your grandmother had most to do with that. She is a remarkable woman, Heath. I do love her like she was my own mother."

"I guess she is your own mother by now."

"She was my own mother almost right away. It was like she wanted me to be in her family just because I was her husband's son and she loved her husband that much. I'd do anything for her, and I felt that way almost from the start."

Little Heath smiled. "I know I have a lot to learn about families, but I think I've already learned that when you love your family, you've got a leg up."

Heath was beginning to be a little uncomfortable. Nicky should have been back by now. He gave him a little longer, but then he said, "I'd better go tell your brother to shake a leg. Wait here, all right?"

"All right," Little Heath said.

Heath went out the back door – and immediately stopped cold. The door to the outhouse was wide open, and Nicky was nowhere in sight. "Nicky?!" he yelled. "Nicky, where are you?!"

There was no answer.

Heath ducked down the alley a bit, calling his younger son, but he got no answer and saw no one. With an exasperated sigh, he went back into the back door of the hotel.

"That brother of yours has gone and disappeared, when I told him to come right back here," he said to Little Heath.

"Do you want me to look for him?" Little Heath asked.

"No, you stay here, and I mean, stay here. I'm gonna go find him. You get the saddlebags loaded back onto the horses and with any luck, I'll find Nicky and be back here in a few minutes."

"All right," Little Heath said.

Heath went out the front door, fuming and ready to wail Nicky good for disobeying him, but a quick look up and down the street told him Nicky was not out there either. Anger began to give way to worry. There was so much around this ghost town for a little boy to be hurt by – and it didn't have anything to do with ghosts.

XXXXX

Little Heath packed up the saddlebags and took them out to the horses tethered outside, as his father had asked him to do. As he did that, he could hear his father calling for Nicky but he didn't see him, and he didn't see Nicky either. He was beginning to be mad at Nicky himself – the kid never did do what he was told very well. And how in the world did he get lost between the hotel and the necessary that was right outside the back door?

Little Heath didn't notice exactly when he stopped hearing his father's voice, but suddenly it occurred to him that everything, everywhere, was silent. There were no voices. There was no wind. There was no sound at all.

And that was incredibly eerie.

He wondered what he should be doing. Nicky was gone – what if his father was gone too? Little Heath got a grip on himself and went back into the hotel, where his father had told him to wait. Inside, he sat down on the bottom step of the stairs, and he listened. He still didn't hear anything at all, not his brother, not his father, not even a rat scurrying around.

But he stayed where he was.

XXXXXXX

Heath had finally tried the building that had the most stable interior – the saloon. He saw that all the tables and chairs were gone and so was half the bar, but the other half was still intact.

"Nicky?" he called. "Are you in here?"

Nicky didn't answer him.

Just to be sure, Heath went behind the bar to see if Nicky was back there, but he wasn't. Heath stood for a moment, wondering what to do, trying not to be terrified that the boy had found some abandoned mine shaft or something, but he was afraid. Darkness was coming on. Nicky would only get more lost in the dark.

"Dammit, Nicky, why didn't you come back in like I told you?" Heath said to himself and began to walk back around the bar.

And then the floor caved in.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Little Heath thought he had outgrown being afraid of anything, but now he knew different. His brother was gone, his father was gone, and he was alone in this falling down hotel his father's aunt and uncle had owned once long ago. Sure, he'd laughed at Nicky when his little brother talked about being afraid of ghosts, but now Little Heath had to admit, he was just as scared, because soon it would be getting dark.

He didn't know what to do. He hadn't heard his father's voice in a long time. His father told him to stay here, but he'd been gone for nearly half an hour and surely he expected to be back before now. His father didn't mean for him to stay here if he didn't come back, did he? But where should he go? Should he just wander from building to building in this terrible, ugly place until he found his father or Nicky?

What in the world had happened to them? Had the ghosts gotten them? _No, there are no ghosts,_ Little Heath told himself.

But he couldn't stay there alone anymore. The sun would be going down anytime now, and then it would be getting dark. He had to look for his father and Nicky while he still could, so he went out into the street. He stopped in the middle, in front of the hotel, and he yelled.

"Papa! Papa, where are you?! Nicky! Nicky, it's Heath, answer me!"

No one answered him, not even the wind. The air was hot and still and no voice was carried on it. Heath thought he was going to start to cry.

But he fought it off. He started up the middle of the street toward the end of town they had come in from, yelling all the way, then waiting for a voice to answer. He didn't hear anything.

But he saw something, out of the corner of his eye. Something at the corner of a building. Someone watching him. He stopped. His heart pounded. He saw someone in the shadows.

XXXXXX

Nicky had begun to cry, and the more he cried the less he was able to get his bearings and get back to where he had left his father and brother. That didn't seem to make any sense. This town was not that big. He should have been able to remember what the building they had gone into looked like, but he didn't. Panic was taking away all his common sense.

"Papa! Heath!" Nicky called, but no one answered. For the longest time he wandered, calling but not loudly enough, getting no answer.

Then he saw someone, someone big, moving in the shadows. Terrified, Nicky ran in the opposite direction. He didn't watch where he was going, and he tripped and fell over some old wood. His hands hit the dirt before he did but he did not scrape anything. His ankle twisted oddly, though, and now it hurt. He sat up in the dirt and looked around for that big someone, certain that big someone was bearing down on him and he couldn't get away.

He yelled, "Help! Papa!"

Not hearing an answer, he got up onto his good leg and tried to limp away, but he didn't make it far before he had to lean against a building. Then he heard the voice.

"Nicky! Answer me!"

Nicky listened, and he looked and saw someone moving down the street. Calling him.

"Heath!" Nicky called.

XXXXX

When the form in the shadows called his name, Little Heath recognized his little brother and ran toward him. "Nicky!"

Little Heath hurried to support his brother, seeing that he was slumping in the shadows. He could see Nicky was dirty and crying and unable to stand up. "There's a man!" Nicky yelled. "Following me! There's a man!"

"Come on," Little Heath said and supported his brother as they hobbled together back up the street to the hotel.

As soon as they stumbled through the door, Little Heath put his brother into the broken down sofa and hurried to the desk where the lamp was sitting. He looked everywhere for the oil and matches and found them behind the desk, but the matches were so old Little Heath wasn't sure they would work. He heard his little brother sniffling across the room as he poured some oil into the lamp and tried to light a match. It took three tries, but it did work. Now - would he have to wait for the lamp wick to soak up some oil?

The lamp lit, and Little Heath could see he hadn't put much oil into it. There just wasn't much oil in the bottle in the first place. He had an idea.

"You stay here," Little Heath said. "I'm going to put some of this old wood in the street and light a fire. There's a lot of dry wood around here. We can keep the fire going all night."

"I want to go with you!" Nicky yelled.

"No, you stay here, I'll be right back!"

"Where's Papa?"

"I don't know. Just stay here. I'll be right back and we'll talk about what to do."

Nicky calmed down when Little Heath said they would talk. Little Heath put a comforting hand on Nicky's shoulder before he carried the lamp outside.

Little Heath gathered some broken wood and put it in a pile in the middle of the street. Using the lampfire, he was able to light the wood pretty easily – it was really dry. He gathered up more wood and put it in a pile on the boardwalk in front of the hotel, where it would be handy to keep the fire going. Then he went back into the hotel.

Nicky was calm now. Little Heath knelt on the floor in front of him and said, "Did you hurt your leg?"

"My ankle," Nicky said. "I twisted it."

Little Heath sighed. "I'm not gonna take your boot off in case it swells up. But maybe you didn't really hurt it too bad. Now, what's this about somebody following you?"

"I saw a big shadow coming after me. That's how I hurt my ankle."

"Well, I didn't see anybody out there now."

"But I did see him!"

"Maybe it was just a shadow and you just thought it was coming after you."

"It moved!"

"There's nobody out there now! But we have to find Papa. He went looking for you and now I don't know where he is. Where did you go, anyway? Why didn't you come right back here like Papa told you to?"

"I got lost when I came out of the outhouse. I didn't know what building you were in."

"It's the one right next to the outhouse!"

"I didn't remember!"

"Why didn't you call out?"

Nicky started to feel like he was going to cry again. "I did! You didn't hear me!"

Little Heath stood up. "All right, all right. I think we better look for Papa. He has to be around here somewhere."

"You don't think the shadow – "

"No, I don't think the shadow got him. Shadows don't 'get' people."

"Maybe it was a – "

"It was not a ghost! There are no ghosts!"

Nicky quieted down again, but only because he was making his brother mad.

Little Heath sighed. "Can you walk? We need to see if we can find Papa."

"I think so," Nicky said.

Little Heath helped him up. "Let's put a little more wood on that fire and go looking. We won't split up, got that? We're staying together."

Nicky nodded.

Little Heath put his arm around his brother. "Okay. Let's go."

XXXXX

At first, all Heath knew was that his head hurt, and then when he tried to push himself up his leg hurt. He ended up sitting back down, his head spinning as well as hurting and his leg in an awkward position. Then he woke up fast and hard.

He felt for his leg. Not broken, but his knee was out of place, and it hurt like the dickens. Something ran into his eyes, and he felt for it. It was almost too dark to see but he saw blood when he took his hand away. He wiped his eye and looked around, trying to figure out where he was.

Down in a hole was where he was, and he remembered. The floor had given way and he was falling and then he was here, looking up from a basement, up to where he had been before. Now he was sitting among the remains of the floor that fell down in here with him. He was stuck, in a basement, with his leg hurt and blood running from the top of his head into his eyes.

"Heath! Nicky!" he yelled as loud as he could. "Answer me! Nicky! Heath!"

He remembered leaving Little Heath in the remains of the hotel while he tried to find where Nicky had wandered off to. He remembered making it to the old saloon, and that was where the floor gave way. But he had no idea if Little Heath was still at the hotel, or where Nicky had gotten to. He didn't know if either boy could hear him yelling.

Yet, what else could he do? "Heath! Nicky! Answer me!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Little Heath and Nicky began to move around the town, slowly and carefully because the light was beginning to fade and now they knew for real that this was a dangerous place, ghosts or no ghosts. They called for their father, and then listened, but they just didn't hear anything.

Little Heath said, "If he's in one of these old buildings, he might not hear us."

"I don't want to go into any of these buildings," Nicky said.

"We may have to," Little Heath said. Then he realized how frightened his little brother was. "For now, we'll just listen close at the doors and windows and we'll call through them. Don't worry. Papa maybe just twisted his ankle and can't walk out from where he is. We'll find him."

Nicky nodded. "Okay," he said, but his voice was barely a squeak.

So, bit by bit, they went from shattered door to shattered door and called into the wreckage of old buildings, even ones that didn't have anything more than one or two walls partially standing. But no one responded. It was getting darker. Little Heath was glad he'd built the fire, and he glanced back at it now and then to make sure it was still going. At one point he said to Nicky, "You stay right here – right in this spot. I'm going to go throw some more wood on the fire. You can watch me from here. You stay right here and I'll be right back."

Nicky nodded and watched his brother run back to the fire, put some more wood on it, and then start back toward him. That was when Nicky heard the voice.

"I hear him!" Nicky yelled to Little Heath as he came closer.

"Where?" Little Heath asked.

"Here, right in here!"

They were in front of the saloon. Little Heath grabbed Nicky's hand before they started in. "Papa?!" Little Heath called. "Papa! Are you here?!"

Down in his basement hole behind the bar, Heath heard his son calling. "Heath! I'm here!"

Buoyed, Little Heath and Nicky came toward the bar.

"Be careful!" Heath yelled. "The floor's caved in!"

Neither boy could really see the floor and could barely see the bar, so they stopped. "Where are you, Papa?!" Little Heath called.

"I fell when the floor caved in!" Heath yelled. "I'm in the basement!"

Little Heath got a better bead on where his father was. "Stay right here," he said to Nicky and put Nicky's hand on a beam that used to support the roof. The beam wasn't completely upright, but it was stable enough for Nicky to anchor onto. "Right here!" Little Heath repeated.

Nicky nodded.

Little Heath inched his way to the bar, then around it. There was still enough light for him to tell that there was a hole back there. "I'm right here, Papa!" he yelled.

Heath sighed with relief, but was still half frantic the floor would open up under his son. "My leg is hurt!" He called. "Can you find the basement door?"

Little Heath looked around. The fallen roof and the increasing darkness made it hard to find anything.

"There should be a door under the stairway!" Heath called. "Can you find it?"

Little Heath looked and saw the wrecked stairway at the other end of the bar, not a dozen feet away. "I see it!"

"See if you can get the door open, but don't come down, not yet," Heath said.

"Okay."

As Nicky tried to watch through the darkness, Little Heath made his way bit by bit to the door, holding onto the bar all the way until he had to let go because the bar had collapsed. Thankfully, there was no debris blocking the door. Little Heath grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door frame was smashed out of kilter and the door did not want to open. He tried again. He got it open, but only a few inches.

Down in the hole, Heath heard the door open and saw a little bit of light, and he got himself up and to the stairs. He had no idea if there were really any steps left. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

"I hear you," Little Heath said.

"Don't come down here. I don't know if any of these steps are still there but I'm going to climb my way up real slow. You stay right there. Try to get the door open a little more."

"Okay."

Little Heath wedged himself between the door and the frame and got in enough to move the door a few more inches. Below, he could hear his father trying to get up the stairs.

Heath held close to the part of the steps that were against the wall, and one by one he pulled himself up. He felt a step give way, but held on and got to the next one. The same thing happened again, just as he was within reach of the door. He grabbed the bottom of the doorframe where it had been anchored to the floor, and he felt Little Heath grab his wrist.

"Almost there," Heath said, and he gave a final push against a fragile step.

Little Heath grabbed his father by both wrists and pulled him up through the door frame. The both of them fell on the floor right next to the bar, but thankfully, it did not give way. They stayed there, panting.

"Are you okay?!" Nicky yelled, terrified but glued to the support beam where Little Heath had put him.

"Yes," Heath said. "Stay where you are. We'll be there in a minute."

Little Heath got to his feet and helped his father up. Heath needed his support to get across the room – he was grateful that Little Heath was big enough now to help him. They got to where Nicky was and Little Heath reached for his brother's hand.

"You grab onto my belt and go outside with us," Little Heath said.

"Okay," Nicky said and did as he was told.

In a bunch, the three of them made it out toward the light of the fire in the street, and in a moment they were out of the building and in the dirt. They stopped there, Heath sagging to the ground, Nicky not letting go of Little Heath's belt.

Little Heath said, "You can let go now, Nicky, but stay with us." He bent to his father when Nicky let go. "Where is your leg hurt?" he asked.

"My knee," Heath said.

Little Heath felt around his father's knee and said, "It's popped out of place."

Before Heath could even agree or say another word, Little Heath deftly adjusted the knee and popped it back into place.

Heath didn't have time to yell. The procedure hadn't even hurt that much anyway.

"Is that better?" Little Heath asked.

Amazed, Heath said, "Yes."

Little Heath looked at the cut on his father's head. "That's not much, but it's bleeding. Let's get back to the hotel and clean it off."

Little Heath pulled his father up, and as soon as he did Nicky grabbed the back of Little Heath's belt again. Again, as a bunch, they made their way down the street, past the fire and into the hotel.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

In only a minute, the little group was back into the hotel, and Little Heath eased his father onto the broken sofa, giving him his bandana. Heath sat down and relaxed, his knee beginning to feel better already. He smiled a little. "Just how did you learn to do that?"

Little Heath said, "Uncle Nick taught me. We were out chasing strays and when he got off his horse he twisted his knee. He showed me how to put it back and I put it back for him."

"Wow," Heath said. Little Heath's story told him he'd have to thank his older brother.

Little Heath saw his father looking out the door toward the fire. "I thought I'd cook us some dinner and then put the fire out," Little Heath said. "We don't want it going all night, just in case the wind picks up."

"You're right," Heath said. "One stray ember and this whole town would go up in smoke."

"Who'd miss it?" Nicky asked, sarcastically.

"Probably nobody, but we'd be in it at the time," Heath reminded him.

Little Heath said to Nicky, "Go get the canteens from the horses, and come straight back in here."

Nicky nodded and limped out the door. He was back in less than a minute, and Little Heath motioned him to put the canteens on the desk.

Little Heath said, "I'm going to go make sure the horses are okay for the night. And I'll get some food and cook us some dinner."

"Can I help?" Nicky asked.

"No, you better stay with me - you're gimpy too," Heath said. "And I might need your help – like right now you can fetch me one of those canteens."

Nicky dutifully went to the counter where he had put all the canteens and fetched one for his father. While he was gone, Heath gave a smile and a wink to his older son – understanding passed between them. Nicky needed to feel like he was needed.

Little Heath said, "I'll be back in a few minutes," and went out the door.

Heath watched him go and for the first time, felt like he was watching a man, not a boy. That important time in a boy's life – that day when responsibility was dumped in his lap and he lived up to it – had happened to Little Heath today. Maybe it was time that "Little" be dropped from his name.

Nicky bent and gave his father the canteen. Heath still had hold of the bandana Little Heath had given him. Heath gave it some water and pressed it to his head wound again. It came away without any new blood. "I think it stopped bleeding," Nicky said, looking straight at the wound.

"I think so too," Heath said. "We'll be all right. We'll just sleep in here tonight and head home in the morning."

"Good," Nicky said.

It wasn't long before they could see Little Heath moving around the fire in the street. Heath said, "Why don't you go see if you can help your brother – but don't wander off again, hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Nicky said and, his ankle loosening up, he walked outside.

Little Heath saw him coming. "Is Papa okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Nicky said. "He wanted me to see if I could help you."

Heath said, "Put some water in the coffee pot there and bring it back to me."

Nicky grabbed the pot, went back inside the hotel and poured some water out of one of the canteens into the pot. Then he ran back outside. Heath watched, smiling, noting how dark it was now and wondering if a lamp on the floor had enough oil to make a light. He got to his feet, checked the lamp and and poured some more oil from the bottle into it. Then he started looking around for other lamps and matches.

When Nicky came back in a few moments later, Heath had lit the lamp and left it on top of the desk for now.

"Heath says I should stay with you in case you need me," Nicky said.

Heath smiled and said, "Tell you what. Get those old cushions off that sofa over there and bring them by the stairs. The sofa won't hold all of us but the floor will, and those cushions will make it a little bit softer."

Nicky did as he was told, and Heath lowered himself to the floor. "What else can I do?" Nicky asked.

Heath came up with one of his lopsided grins. "Tell me a ghost story."

"Papa!" Nicky laughed.

"Make one up," Heath said. "Come on, you can do it. That's all we did when I was a boy growing up here. We made up our ghost stories – all the ones I've ever told you, I made up."

Nicky sat down crosslegged, facing his father. "Okay. Once there was a town called Strawberry….."

XXXXXXX

An hour later, they had drunk coffee and ate ham and potatoes. The dishes were cleaned and set out to dry. They moved the lamp to the bottom step and Heath had settled on the floor nearby, his back against the wall. Little Heath had put the fire in the street out by spreading the wood and stomping on it until there were no embers left. Heath was comfortable with a full stomach and very happy watching his sons take care of him – even if he really didn't need it.

They each visited the outhouse – and Nicky found his way back to the hotel without trouble this time. As soon as he was back, Heath smiled at him. "Now, why didn't you come straight back here the last time like I told you?"

"I got lost," Nicky said.

"How did you get lost? The outhouse is not ten feet away from the door."

Nicky hesitated.

Heath realized that maybe he was sounding more harsh than he intended to. "Just tell me, Nicky," he said, more calmly.

"When I left the outhouse, I thought I saw something – a dog, running down the alley. I went to find it and then I couldn't remember what building we were in."

"A dog?!" Little Heath blurted. "That was probably a coyote!"

"No, it wasn't!" Nicky said.

"It probably was," Heath said, and then he held his right arm out to his younger son. "Come here."

Nicky sat himself down on the floor and leaned into his father's right shoulder. Heath realized it had been a really trying day for all of them, but especially Nicky. He gave him a squeeze. "It's been a tough day, but a good one, don't you think? We all learned some lessons, but now Heath fixed us a good dinner and our bellies are full, and everything is all right."

"I did see a ghost dog," Nicky said quietly.

"There are no ghosts!" Little Heath said yet again.

"I'm sure Nicky thought he saw a ghost," Heath said to his older son, "even though it was probably just a coyote."

Little Heath made an exasperated face.

But Heath realized what was behind that look. Little Heath had been frightened today, too. He was just too old to admit it. It wasn't ghosts he had been afraid of, or shadows. It was not being able to find his father or his brother, of being left all alone in this God-forsake town, even if it wasn't for very long. But he had really risen to the occasion, finding his brother and his father, getting everyone safe and back together, and taking care of all of them. Heath opened his other arm. "Come on over here, Heath," he said. "That lamp is going to be out in a minute or two. We'll keep the ghosts or the shadows or whatever they were away from all of us if we stick together."

Little Heath looked hesitant for a moment, but then he too got down on the floor and crawled into his father's left shoulder. Heath squeezed both of his sons at the same time, and he smiled. In a few moments he could tell they were both asleep, and when he was secure that they were all right in his arms and the lamp was out, he fell asleep, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Epilogue

Suzanne smiled when she heard her men ride in early the next afternoon, although she was surprised. She had been cleaning dishes in the kitchen and came out to the porch, drying her hands on her apron. Her husband smiled at her as he and both their sons climbed down out of the saddle. Heath came toward the porch, and Suzanne noticed right away.

"You're a day early - and you're limping! And look at that cut on your forehead!"

"He fell in a hole!" Nicky said immediately.

Heath grinned sheepishly. "The floor in the saloon gave way and I went down into the basement. Twisted my knee, but my older son here fixed it up for me."

Suzanne looked surprised. "He fixed it?"

"Uncle Nick taught me how," Little Heath said, as if it were no big deal.

Suzanne caught the inflection. "Well, that's good. Are you hungry? I have some stew left over from last night."

Nicky ran into the house, but Little Heath said, "Go on, Papa. I'll see to the horses and get something when I'm done."

Heath let Little Heath take the horses, and he climbed up onto the porch. He hugged his wife and gave her a kiss. "I've missed you," he said.

"How was your trip? Other than falling through the floor," Suzanne said.

"Oh, pretty eventful," Heath said as they walked into the house together.

"Be careful of that stove!" Suzanne yelled to Nicky, who was in the kitchen looking for the stew. "I'll put some food on for you as soon as I sit your Papa down and look at his head."

"It's all right," Heath said as he sat down at the kitchen table and Nicky came to sit beside him. Heath smiled at him. "My boys took good care of me."

Suzanne gave the cut on Heath's forehead a look. "So it seems. Nicky, you go into the watercloset and wash your hands."

Nicky popped up and headed for the WC. Heath smiled, watching him go.

"What else eventful happened?" Suzanne said and sat down at the table with her husband.

"Our boys did a bit of growing up, especially our older one," Heath said. "Nicky got lost and I had to go looking for him. When I got hurt, they didn't know where I was. Heath found Nicky and kept him calm and then the two of them found me. Heath took care of my knee and cooked dinner for us and cared for the horses, all without one bit of complaint or acting like he couldn't do it. Our boy took a big step closer to being a man."

"I noticed he hasn't shaved either, and he actually needs it."

Heath chuckled. "I was real proud of him, Suzanne – and of Nicky, too. Nicky was scared, but he calmed down good and we were all all right before we fell asleep last night."

Suzanne smiled. "I have to admit, I was worried about you, being in that rundown town. I'll bet it's a lot worse than when we were there."

"You bet right," Heath said. "It was kinda sad to see it, even though I knew it would happen. But telling the boys about how it used to be was good for me, and watching them do so much growing up in a couple days – that was like watching a miracle happen. I can't tell you how great it felt to be a father. How great it still feels. You and the boys – you're the best things that ever happened to me."

They leaned toward each other and kissed. "I'm so glad you're home, safe and sound," Suzanne said.

"Me, too," Heath said. "And I'm hungry, too."

Suzanne got up. "When Nicky comes out, you go wash your hands, too. I'll put the stew on."

"Biscuits, too, if we have any," Heath said.

"We have plenty. I had the feeling you'd be coming back with a couple more man-sized appetites."

Heath smiled. "Yeah," he said quietly.

The End


End file.
